


A Small Death On A Saturday

by variableIntroversion



Series: After The End Of The World [5]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Bro and Dave fuck yo, Fluff, Incest, Kissing, M/M, Mentions of Character Death, Pillow Talk, Sex, Sibling Incest, So much kissing, love-making tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2021-01-21 02:26:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21292097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/variableIntroversion/pseuds/variableIntroversion
Summary: You wake up some time after noon on a Saturday with nowhere to be, nothing to do, and absolutely no desire to get out of bed.
Relationships: Dave Strider ♥ Bro Strider, Dave Strider ♦ Karkat Vantas (mentioned), Dave's Bro | Beta Dirk Strider/Dave Strider
Series: After The End Of The World [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1528694
Comments: 2
Kudos: 52





	A Small Death On A Saturday

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to the guest who commented on my last fic. Love you too, bruh <3<

You wake up some time after noon on a Saturday with nowhere to be, nothing to do, and absolutely no desire to get out of bed. The sheets are soft and still smell fresh after getting washed yesterday, you're warm, and best of all? Bro's practically laying on top of you like a human blanket, and you couldn't be happier with that. Honestly it should be hard to breathe for how much heavier he is, but to you, it's just comforting. You can feel him breathing, feel his heartbeat, and even if you usually don't like being pinned down, with him, you just feel safe.

So you aren't in any rush to get up. You're content to just doze and wait for Bro to come out of hibernation. Judging by how late you both got to bed last night, you've got at least another hour, but that hour goes by in a comfortable haze. By the time you finally feel him shifting, you're half asleep again. You barely twitch as Bro grunts and oozes halfway off of you. Don't even have to squirm after him, 'cause he just wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you flush (hah) against his chest.

"Morn'n." Bro mumbles, lips brushing the top of your head. You can feel his breath tickle the back of your ear, and you narrowly stop a shiver.

"Afternoon." You answer. He grunts and just nuzzles into your hair. It's sort of adorable, how affectionate he gets when he's half awake. You never woulda pegged him for the type, but you're sure as hell not complaining.

The innocence of it all is slightly tarnished when you feel something prodding your ass, though. Morning wood tends to have that effect on wake-up cuddles, but nowadays, it luckily doesn't mean awkwardly pulling away. Instead, you grind right against Bro's clothed dick, and smugly listen to him grunt again. His hips jerk forwards once, probably on reflex, then start grinding right back with a deliberate sort of pressure.

A second later, warm lips press to the back of your neck, and you do shiver that time. Another kiss comes, and then another, and then a gentle suck on your trapezius that makes you squirm and lose your rhythm for a moment. Bro's teeth graze over the nape of your neck next and your back arches before you can help it. He's gentle but persistent with teasing the sensitive spot. One second he's kissing it, licking it, the next his warm breaths are washing over the damp skin and making you almost jump. Once he's thoroughly toyed with the spot, he moves on to do the same to the rest of your neck.

It's this weird mix of pleasure and nervous adrenaline for you. His lips feel damn good on your pulse point, the back of your jaw, right below your ear. But each point of contact also sends little alarmed jolts down your spine, almost like the kind you get when you get tickled, but not quite the same. Your brain is crossing wires and getting caught between enjoying what's happening and startling, flipping back and forth several times a second until you're almost overwhelmed.

Just as you start tensing up and preparing to move away, Bro presses a lingering kiss to the top of your head and stays there. One of his thumbs is rubbing circles against your chest, working to soothe away the nervous energy you've built up over the past couple minutes. You wind down quickly enough, and you're sure he can tell as much from the pacified sigh you let out. 

"Y' wanna keep goin'?" His voice is still low and raspy from sleep, maybe a bit husky with arousal. He sounds like sex, really, and damn does he sound good.

"Hell yeah. You?" You hear him hum, and instead of any verbal reply, he nudges you onto your back and slides over you again.

The first thing he does from his new vantage point is kiss you, slow and lazy and sweet. You're perfectly content to match the pace he's set, just close your eyes and enjoy it. Your hands rub languidly over Bro's chest, wandering from his shoulders to his sides and down to his hips, then up again. Most days it would be teasing, but right now you're just appreciating how he feels under your fingertips. Warm and solid and well-built, smooth skin with smooth scars and smooth, fine hair.

Bro's hands are occupied with holding him up, but he makes up for that with his mouth. Every inch of skin he could be brushing his fingers over, he begins mapping with his lips. His path along your neck is brief this time, sparing you from the electric pleasure that would have you squirming in seconds. He spends longer around your collar bones, kissing up and down each before moving on to your chest.

You have your fair share of scars, after the game, but the most prominent by far are the marks from Jade's gun. From when you'd begun bleeding on Derse before the wounds sealed up in a blink and the discolored patches lingered, even after you ascended. Bro seeks out every one of those silver starbursts, pressing his lips to them for long moments. Gently, carefully, as if they might still hurt. One of his hands does shift to touch you then, but only to slide under your back so he can rub at the corresponding scars wherever the bullets went straight through.

It bothers him, you think, to see evidence of death on your skin. The same way it still bothers you whenever you see the thin scar in the center of his sternum, when you feel it on his spine. Reminders that neither of you got through unscathed. He kisses each one as if it's sacred, as if he's making a vow with every touch.

Your face heats a bit under the attention, but you don't rush him. It feels good, for one thing, but more importantly you get the feeling that it's something Bro needs. As little as you two talk about it, you get the feeling he feels guilty for leaving you during the game, even if he couldn't help it. Or if not guilty, still upset by it, for reasons you can only make educated guesses at. He's been so much more affectionate since you got him back, as if he's making up for the lost years. So you don't rush him, you thread your fingers through his hair and run your other hand along his back, and you soak up the affection for as long as he'll give it.

You know he's ready to move on when he grazes his teeth over your nipple before giving it a soft suck. Your teeth dig into your lip to keep any embarrassing sounds in check and grind up against him. He responds in kind, movements slow and deliberate. There's no rush, despite how hard the both of you are. Just a steady build-up until you're softly panting beneath him.

"Condom?" Bro asks. His breath ghosts over your skin and fuck, his voice has only gotten huskier and it sounds great. You nod once, not really in the mood for things to get too messy. That does come with the downside of him moving away briefly, but he's not gone long. Six and a half seconds, one open and shut drawer later, and he's right back over you with a partially used bottle of lube and a plastic packet. 

The lube cap is snapped open first. You slide out of your underwear while Bro slicks up his fingers. As soon as you toss the fabric aside, his lips find yours again. There's a little more heat to it this time, a little more tongue, but still gentle. Always so gentle. You close your eyes, and when you feel his hand between your legs, you wrap them comfortably around his waist and hold him close.

You're the one to break the kiss this time, with the express purpose of starting to brush your lips along his jaw. Slow and every bit as tender and worshipful as he'd been with you. You have to pause a moment when his finger sinks into you, but it's not long before you're back in motion. Neither of you are in a rush here. He's slow with prep, and you take your time kissing along his cheeks, back to his mouth, down to his neck. He tips his head up to accommodate you, since you don't have nearly as much room to move, and you reward him by laving attention over his skin.

By the time he has two fingers working you open, you're at his shoulders, praising them with open-mouth kisses and small nips to his trapezius. Right where you know he's sensitive, where you know it'll make him tense and shift as he tries to hold back shivers. You find a spot that makes him stiffen, then suck a hickey into it. He lets out a soft, appreciative groan that pulls a small smile onto your face.

You manage to leave two more gentle bruises on him before he's pulling his hand out. Reluctantly, you loosen the grip you've got on him with your legs long enough for him to lean back and slip on the condom. He uses the lube still clinging to his fingers to slick it up, then he's crowding close again to start pushing in.

It takes effort for him to go slowly, you can tell. From the way he clenches his jaw to the tautness in his shoulders, to the firmer grip he gets on your hips. You soothe your hands over his arms, along his shoulders, up into his hair where you comb through it until he lets out a breath you didn't notice he'd been holding. Lucky for both of you, he bottoms out with no trouble or much delay. What's even more lucky is that with such thorough prep, he doesn't have to wait long before you nod at him to start moving.

The first thrust is shallow, testing, routine. The next is a little longer, a little more eager, and the next follows right after. Bro sets a slow, hard rhythm, rocking into you steadily. He's shifting position now and again, trying to find the right angle for your sweet spot. It's obvious when he finds it. You gasp and clench around him, curl your toes and hold him tighter. He looks satisfied like he always does and moves a little faster.

It's all uphill from there. You're quiet throughout it - you both are, beyond pants, gasps, and low groans - but there's no question that he's enjoying it as much as you do. You come with his hand stroking you and his hips stuttering as he gets close as well. Conveniently, the way you're clenching up with your orgasm seems to help Bro along, and it's not long before he's hunched over you with a drawn out moan.

Before he can tip off to either side, you pull him down on top of you. He resists, briefly, then gives in to your persistence. It really, really should be enough to wind you, you think idly as you catch your breath. Maybe being god-tier just made you super robust or something. Heaven knows you took more hits to the head with a crowbar than any normal person could have handled.

As if he can read your mind (something you were convinced of when you were younger, frankly), Bro nudges your side and mutters against your ear. "How're you even breathin' like this?"

"They manufacture gods to the highest factory standards, Bro. I'm A-grade material. Practically fucking titanium." He snorts a laugh like the heathen that he is, resting his forehead against your temple as he apparently settles down for the long haul.

"Was wonderin' how I wasn't crushin' the life outta you. Kept wakin' up thinking I was gonna smother you in your sleep."

"And you still kept doing it." It's your turn to snort, but you're just as amused.

"I hold no accountability for sleep cuddling. Not like you e'er complained." One of his hands has settled into rubbing small circles against your shoulder. You start running your fingers through his hair again in answer and feel him turn into a boneless mass on top of you.

"Pretty sure that shit's genetic, bro. Everyone in our gog-damn family is cuddly except for like, Rose and Dirk. Actually no Rose cuddles with Kanaya and lets Roxy hang off her all the time, it's just Roxy's mom and Dirk.

"He'll grow outta it." Bro rumbles. It sounds like he's already halfway back asleep again. "'f he ain't already with older you."

That makes you pause, because you hadn't actually considered that Dirk and his bro might wind up getting intimate the way you and Bro have. Like, you knew Dirk wasn't adverse to touching and all, the dude's practically been starved of it for most of his life. But it still hadn't crossed your mind. That's a trippy thought, but it kinda makes sense cross-ways, if you think about it.

"Yeah, I guess. If they even tell each other. I mean fuck, I only told you 'cause of Karkat, they might just dance around it forever. If that is a thing they're thinking about."

"Kid's pro'lly thinkin' 'bout it." Bro's words are slurring, his accent is getting thicker. You can't look at him from this angle, but you kind of want to because he answered with way too much certainty for you to brush off.

"How the fuck do you know that? Like I get you're genetically identical ecto-clones or whatever but the dude had a pretty fucking different upbringing."

"You think he's hot?"

"What?"

"You think mini-me's hot?" Bro does lift his head to look at you, which is unfortunate for you because your face is going red and you have exactly zero deniability at this point. "Exactly. Hot is hot, whether ya grow up in water world or not."

"Did you just rap at me about how our slime clones wanna fuck each other."

"You think I'm wrong?"

No. No, you do not, even as you resolutely enter a poker face stare-off with Bro, you know he's probably right. And so you inevitably break first, with a blink and a sigh.

"Fine, yeah, if they haven't gotten together yet they're probably miserably pining over each other. Minus one Karkat 'just kiss him you idiot' Vantas to kick their asses into gear."

"Remind me to send your boyfriend roses."

"Absolutely not. Anyway are we gonna do something about our other-brothers or do we just wait for it?"

Bro tucks his head back against yours and lets out a little huff of laughter. "I'll bet ya cash somethin'll happen in the next six months."

"I'm disgustingly rich as it is I don't need your money. But I'll raise you nine months."

"Deal."


End file.
